Chapter Two: The Other Minister

(A/N) Hey guys! Delighted with how the first chapter of this story has gone down so am continuing with it. I hope you all will enjoy the route I'm taking with this tale. This story will contain many OC's but also all of the original Harry Potter characters that we all know and love. Each new chapter will be around 2,000 words long, as I've found that to be the most effective way personally. And it means I can update fairly regularly, which I'm sure you'll be glad to hear. ;) This story is going to be…much darker than most of the other fanfics you see here. Much…much darker. And it may not have a happy ending. You'll just have to keep reading in order to find out. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters or places from the series, but do own any characters I create for use in this story. Anyway, here we go!

Review Responses:

DollyInTheSkyWithDiamonds: I know, it pained me to kill of McGonagall but I needed to do something to make this…darker than other fanfics. Here's the second chapter. I'm just sorry that it took me a long time to write it. :/

fanficgurl57: That is possibly the nicest review I've ever gotten. I'm glad you're happy with how I've portrayed the characters and written this story so far. And I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I hope you'll stay with me. I have big plans for this fanfic.

David Clarke

The Taoiseach of the Republic of Ireland sat in his office, staring at the mounds of paperwork that had collected on his desk. He leant over and thumped his head against the desk's polished surface.

This British affair will make or break my career… He thought glumly, wondering how he could put a good spin on a huge outbreak in murders and assaults going on throughout the United Kingdom. The crime stats in Britain had been getting continually worse for the past two years, but it had only been over the last few months that they had exploded, unexplained crimes occurring throughout the island. Normally this wouldn't particularly bother him, sure, these stats were troubling, but the problem hadn't spread to the North yet, or so it would seem, and what was going on in Britain had little effect over here, unless it affected trade. However, many were afraid that this wave of crime would spread, something that even worried him.

How to deal with this? How to try to convince a nation of people when he couldn't even convince himself? He had almost completely slipped into his own personal pool of despair when a gentle cough interrupted his moment of self-pity.

He turned around wearily and stared at the portrait of the old man which hung on the wall behind him.

"What is it now?" He asked, bitterly. "Are they expecting me to try and solve their problems too?"

The man in the portrait took on a mildly affronted look before shaking his head slowly. "The new Minister for Magic wishes to meet you, sir. Can you spare the time?"

The Taoiseach knew better than to refuse, the question had been more for the sake of politeness than for granting him any real choice. He shrugged and waved his hand in dismissal. "Tell him to come in. After all, it's not like this day could get any worse!"

The man nodded, bowed slightly and disappeared from the portrait, presumably jumping to his other frame, or at least that was how the Taoiseach was given to understand. A few seconds later a man appeared out of the fireplace, giving him a slightly surreal and worryingly disturbing recollection of a past Christmas when his father had tried to surprise the family. He had definitely succeeded but possibly not in the way he had intended, having ended up dislocating her hip and breaking his collarbone. First time they had ever spent Christmas Day in the Accidents and Emergency ward, though sadly, not their last.

The man wore normal clothes, which slightly surprised the Taoiseach as he had become used to dealing with…people wearing an odd assortment of robes. This man however sported a pair of battered jeans, a t-shirt bearing the logo of some old rock band and worn trainers. More surprisingly, he couldn't have been over twenty.

The Taoiseach cocked his head as the man bent over, coughing up soot. When he eventually regained his composure there was a moment of awkwardness before the…other Minister smiled warmly and wearily gestured back towards the fireplace. "Floo network is on the fritz I'm afraid. The previous administration cut it after…well, after they knew they were going to lose. We've had a devil of a time trying to get it back online."

He looked around the office before shanking himself suddenly and turned to the Taoiseach once again, before dusting himself off and proffering his hand to the now baffled Taoiseach.

"I'm very sorry, I probably should explain first. I assume you've had the talk with one of my predecessors?"

The Taoiseach blinked slowly. "I'm sorry. The talk?"

The young man just shrugged. "You know…magic and all that. The existence of and whatnot."

"Oh." The Taoiseach began to nod. "Yes…not with the guy before you, but the one before him. Tiberius or something, wasn't it?"

"Tiberium. Alfred Tiberium. He was a good man…." The other minister drifted off, his face taking on a sombre expression, peaking his interest.

"Was? I thought he just lost the last election. The last one didn't say anything about him dying."

"No, he died all right. We buried him anyway…well…buried what we could find of him…" He paused for a moment, staring into the fire, before shrugging once more and continuing. "He was killed by the last…Minister that you talked to, Arthur Drake. Drake…was not a good man."

He drifted off again, his eyes losing focus. The Taoiseach stared at him for a moment before coughing gently, bringing the young man back to the situation at hand. "Why was Drake not a good man? He seemed…normal enough to me. For a…wizard at least. Maybe…slightly haughty, obnoxious. But nothing to suggest he was a murderer."

The other minister sighed. "Have you heard of…of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? You-Know-Who?"

The Taoiseach nodded slightly. "That…evil wizard? Over in Britain? The one who came back to life? Drake told me that it had all been a hoax. That it turned out some of his old followers were just trying to stir up trouble, and it had all been dealt with."

Shaking his head wearily, the other man replied. "Drake was one of his followers. He…took power in Britain…almost a year ago now. Across the world, groups sprang up supporting him. Just like every time a new dark lord rises. They seized control in quite a number of countries, most of Eastern Europe, parts of Africa and Asia, some of the poorer South American countries. Here as well. There's huge uprisings going on throughout most of the rest of the world. The Dark Lord's men are everywhere."

He paused, running his hand through his hair. "A few weeks ago, a group of wizards in Britain made their last stand in Hogwarts, the main school for…witchcraft and wizardry in Britain, up in some deserted part of Scotland. Harry Potter… Do you know anything about him?"

The Taoiseach paused, racking his brains in an attempt to remember where exactly he had heard that name before. "Ah yes!" he exclaimed, remembering. "He was the one that killed You-Know-Who right? When…he was a baby?"

"Exactly. Only person to ever survive a Killing Curse. Caused a big stir in the magical experimentation community. Lot of time spent trying to replicate those results…but that's another story. He led the…rebellion, the last of the Order of the Phoenix, and the staff and many of the pupils of Hogwarts, against the Dark Lord's forces. Short story, they lost, and Potter's dead. Leaving the rest of the world without any real hope. But hey, that's life for you!"

The Taoiseach sat there, shocked, before finally mumbling. "The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Ah… yes. They were a group dedicated to opposing You-Know-Who. Set up by Albus Dumbledore, the old headmaster of Hogwarts, amongst others. They're mostly dead though I'd imagine…" He sighed before continuing. "I belong to a sister order of theirs. The Order of Augurey…actually, I guess I run it now."

He simply shrugged at the questioning look the Taoiseach gave him. "Battlefield promotion. Pretty much all my superiors died retaking the Ministry…My squad took the Main Hall, and managed to fight our way into the Minister's chambers. I killed Drake, so I guess that's the second consecutive Minister to be killed by his successor… Actually, that's kind of a worrying trend. I might want to beef up my security…"

He trailed off once more, causing the Taoiseach to cough again. The other minister jumped, startled. "Oh, I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yes, killing Drake. Well, most of my superiors where killed, and those that weren't, well, were too injured or simply unwilling to take the lead. I've rose pretty quickly, but…evil only triumphs when good men do nothing. That's a philosophy I've always believed in. And I won't stand idly by when people live in fear of other men. I've lost too many friends to that bastard as it is."

He glanced back up at his companion, his features suddenly hardening. "Anyway, we're expecting an attack to come from Britain over the next few days. You-Know-Who needs Ireland; he can't have an unoccupied area lying right next to him. So we're getting ready. I just felt you needed to know. Things might get…weird over the next few days. Strange things are going to happen… Impossible things. We're going to try to limit any battles to the countryside and sea, with low chance of civilian casualties. It's going to be brutal though… the next few days are probably going to be the worst. We have operatives in France meeting with their resistance movement. We're hoping they'll be able to take some of the heat off us."

The Taoiseach, stunned into silence by the young man's sudden transformation from bumbling, weary and easily distracted, to this general, dispensing battle plans and talking about possible casualties like it was no big deal, suddenly burst out. "What?! I don't understand? Are you suggesting that…we're going to be invaded by murderous wizards?"

He snorted, hoping to gain a chuckle from his younger companion, but the young man simply stared at him sombrely. "That's exactly what I'm saying, sir. From this moment onwards, we are at war."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing. "You have to find a way to restrict travel from Britain to Ireland, at least until we can get support from the French. I doubt they'll use…non-magical travel, but it is still a very real possibility. And it's something we can't control. We don't have the numbers to police our airports and docks. We can no longer be relied on to protect the non-magical community, we've lost too many good wizards, and the forces arrayed against us are… well… the situation's pretty bleak at the moment. You'll need to inform your Cabinet, we can provide people to convince them if necessary. We need you're cooperation on this. United we stand and all that… And I'm also insisting on adding some of my people to your security. You wouldn't have a chance if they went after you."

"Do you really think that's a possibility?" A worried Taoiseach asked, sweat beading on his brow.

"No. It's a certainty. In every country You-Know-Who's Death Eaters have taken, they've adopted the exact same battle strategy. One: cause panic in the Muggle population. That's non-wizards by the way. Two: attack the centre of power in the magical community. Three: take over the main institute of education and begin the grand process of brain-washing the next generation. Sadly, step one involves killing you. So yes, you need the security. And don't worry; it's already been taken care of. My men and women have taken up jobs throughout this building over the past few weeks. Should anything happen, you'll be in safe hands…." He paused before adding, almost as an afterthought. "Well… the best that I could afford to spare at least… but… I'm sure they'll do the job.

He stood up and shook the stunned Taoiseach's hand. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, my father was a good Fianna Gael man… Although I think he believes your recent healthcare policies have been, to use his words, "Fucking idiotic."… Might be something you'd want to have a look at."

He turned away and made for the fireplace, taking a handful of silvery powder from the left pocket of his jeans, only stopping as the Taoiseach cleared his throat, about to ask one final question.

"Who are you?"

The young man turned around and smiled. "My name's David Clarke, leader of the Order of the Augurey, Ireland's Minister for Magic, and formerly an intern in the Experimental Magics Department of our military."

He paused for a moment, checking to see that he had used up all of his titles, and nodded slowly, smiling. He walked right up to the fire and said.

"But you can just call me the Other Minister."